


second star to the right

by soonhan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Growing Up, M/M, Magic, Peter Pan AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 18:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15467778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soonhan/pseuds/soonhan
Summary: shines in the night for youto tell you that the dreams you planreally can come truethe second star to the rightshines with a light so rareand if it's neverland you needits light will lead you there





	second star to the right

The first time it happened, Jeonghan was sure he was dreaming. There was no other way to explain the boy and fairy in his window, backlit by the full moon. Jeonghan almost thought he was a ghost from how otherworldly he looked, his fiery orange hair glowing like a halo around his head. He floated down from the windowsill onto the carpet, not making a sound as he landed. Jeonghan was too shocked to move and instead simply stared, enraptured, as the boy approached him.

“Hello.” Even his voice was strange, almost enough to sound human but not quite. “Will you be my friend?”

Jeonghan figured, if it was a dream then what on earth was there to lose if he said yes. So when his limbs could obey his mind he reached out his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet.

“Do you believe in magic?” the boy asked him. Even outside of his belief that he was dreaming, Jeonghan would have said yes. The fairy floating around the boy landed in his palm and for a moment Jeonghan thought that was all he was meant to observe, but as he leaned in to take a closer look he was suddenly met with a face full of glimmering dust. There was a soft tinkling noise as Jeonghan rubbed at his eyes, which he would later discover was the little fairy laughing at him. The boy stifled his own laughter, stepping backwards until he was standing with his heels on the windowsill once more, giving Jeonghan a small wink before falling backwards. Jeonghan shouted and ran to the edge, terror coursing through his veins, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. A brilliant sparkling streak flew up from below, stopping a few feet higher than his window. The boy gave him a dazzling smile and spread his arms wide and beckoning Jeonghan forward with a jerk of his head.

“Come on. Don’t be afraid.”

He had no idea the wonder he would discover when he crossed over that threshold. The first step through the windowsill was still the most terrifying and exhilarating experience he’d ever had, the fear of dropping to the street below mixing with the delightful weightlessness that pulled him closer to the stars. The boy laughed joyfully, tugging on Jeonghan’s arms, faster, higher, until the roofs below them were smaller than the tips of his fingers.

It felt like they flew forever, just the two of them winding through the stars until finally the boy stopped and pointed to the edge of a moonlit beach, its waves lapping at its shores lazily as if they too were tired in that late hour.

“That’s where we’re going. Don’t worry about trying to remember it though, I promise this won’t be your last time here.” And with that the boy spun away from him, his laughter cascading down as he fell. Jeonghan stared, awestruck, at the water far below that reflected the sky far above. He pushed himself down, picking up speed dizzyingly fast, his eyes fixed on the moon reflected back at him. He didn’t even feel the water as he broke the surface and instead he tumbled onto the sandy shore right into the boy’s arms, which steadied him easily, a bounce in his heel.

As his head stopped spinning Jeonghan realized it was daytime, the sun shimmering in the clear blue sky above them. When he cast his eyes back to the water he could still see the moon and stars twinkling back at him.

“Welcome to my home,” the boy said, spinning in the sand and opening his arms to the world that existed beyond the beach. The sand gave away to peat, and the sand-faring shrubbery turned into towering trees, growing thicker the further into the forest Jeonghan looked. He was pulled away from the impossible reflecting waters, deep into the forest where he could barely see the sun with the density of the canopy of leaves above their heads. He could hear a symphony of noises from all sorts of creatures around him, and though he thought he should be scared he wasn’t. The boy stopped them in the middle of a clearing where the boughs of the trees arched over the form a sort of cathedral ceiling, and before them stood an ancient tree that was thicker than any that they had passed. There was a door fashioned into the front, and a few windows dotted all up the trunk; a heavy-looking iron lantern hung beside the door, unlit; and all around them a vibrant garden of flowers bloomed.

The boy turned back to him and pointed to the tree, his eager expression nothing but infectious. Jeonghan smiled with him, walking hand in hand with him up to the door and ducking his head when the boy opened it and motioned for him to enter. 

Whatever he imagined the inside to look like was nothing like what he was faced with. It was almost modern, but the natural look to everything around him let him know that no man or machine fashioned them. There was a small kitchen tucked away in a gnarled root, a hammock strung up above his head, hundreds of small bottles tucked into every corner illuminating the inside of the tree with a warm yellow glow. There were even stairs carved into the wood of the tree, curving up to a small nook that was just a bit higher than the hammock.

“I built all this, with the help of my friends of course. Without them I wouldn’t have such a pretty home.” The boy ran his hands over the grain, his brilliant smile softening. Jeonghan picked up a bottle that was close by and looked inside, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing.

The boy stepped closer and cupped Jeonghan’s hands with his own, the light from the bottle making his eyes twinkle.

“I can capture stars,” he explained. “Every one of these is a star I caught to keep safe.”

“Safe?” Jeonghan stared at the swirling ball within the bottle, his breath catching in his throat. With a nod the boy tapped the cork and let go of Jeonghan’s hands to take the bottle into his own.

“They would die if I let them out.”

The boy stared into the bottle for a long moment, and then he set it down. When he looked back at Jeonghan he was smiling again, quickly leading him out of the house. He sat him down in the field of flowers and told him to wait, and Jeonghan just watched him walk around and pick blossom after blossom. He returned with an armful, plopping himself down in front of Jeonghan and setting to work snapping the stems to an appropriate length. He didn’t speak as he worked, using a small sharp stick to make cuts in the stems then tucking a flower into the hole, continuing until he had a full circlet. He set it aside and then looked at Jeonghan hard for a few moments, and the gaze made Jeonghan feel shy. The boy shook his head and pulled a few flowers from the pile he’d collected, setting to work on a second crown. He seemed pleased when he was done, setting it atop Jeonghan’s head with a satisfied hum.

“I knew those ones would be perfect for you!” he exclaimed, clapping in delight. Jeonghan let out a high laugh, reaching up and tucking his hair behind his ear, unable to fight the glee that rose up in his chest any time the boy was excited. When the other crown sat upon the boy’s head they set off once more, down a path behind the tree house that got darker the further they walked. 

“I want you to meet some of my friends,” the boy told him, his steps getting faster. Jeonghan pushed to keep up, surprised he didn’t catch himself on any stray roots as they rushed through the woods. After a while the path grew lighter again, though Jeonghan sensed something odd about it. When they broke through the trees he could see why; they were standing at the mouth of a grotto, and the light above had melted into a deep twilight. He wondered just how long he had been there- it certainly hadn’t felt quite so long.

“Hello!” the boy called, and his voice echoed against the stone, skipping across the water back at them. When nothing happened the boy placed his hands on his hips and huffed, and then lifted his hands to cup his mouth before he called out again.

“I know you can hear me!”

Laughter bounced back at him, and to Jeonghan it sounded like a hundred people all at once. The glass-like water in front of them rippled, and from its inky blackness a figure emerged. A round cheerful face stared up at the pair with curious eyes, paying particular attention to Jeonghan.

“Hello to you,” he said. A pair of hands reached for the stone edge of the grotto, and when he pulled himself up Jeonghan couldn’t stop the gasp he let out. Instead of legs he had a long tail, and its rosy scales shimmered in the reflection of the cavern.

“I take it you’ve never seen merfolk before,” he said, covering his lips with the delicate tips of his webbed fingers. Jeonghan shook his head dumbly, and was given another surprise when a second figure lifted his head from the water.

“Someone new!” This one took no time pulling himself up beside the other, his tail slapping the water in excitement. His face was angular, but his most defining feature was his smile, which seemed to occupy most of his face. Jeonghan waved at the pair of them, caught between staring at their faces and their lower halves. They both seemed quite amused that he had such a great interest in their tails, and they lifted them up for him to see better.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he said when he finally found his voice.

“Likewise,” they echoed, reaching out to shake his hand. They were cold, but not unpleasantly so. It reminded Jeonghan of a cool drink on a warm summer’s day.

A third ripple parted the water, but this time Jeonghan saw his hands before his head. When he burst through the surface he as already staring up at Jeonghan with narrowed eyes, the splash from his force hitting Jeonghan and the boy hard. He let out a sharp bark of laughter, lying himself back on the stones rather than getting out completely. Jeonghan could see his tail through the waves, a shocking white against the black.

“You’re quite a pretty one, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan felt a blush creeping up his neck, and he averted his eyes from the merfolk. He’d never been told that before.

“You’re embarrassing him,” the boy said, leaning down to flick water into the third merman’s face. He stuck his tongue out at the boy, seeming a little affronted for being told off.

“I’m just being honest.”

“And what did I say about doing that?” the boy asked. The merman said nothing, and then quicker than Jeonghan could see he pulled the boy towards the water, his cackle ringing out loudly through the cave. The boy managed to shake him off and float just high enough that he couldn’t be tugged down, and the other two mermen watched in delight, cheering both boys on. Jeonghan realized that it must be a common occurrence, and he watched the two playfully fight with a laugh. One of the mermen motioned for him to come sit when them and he did, crossing his legs on the stone. Not too long after he sat down the two mermen pulled him into the water, and he realized then how easily he’d fallen into their trap. He cried out in shock, but there were two arms supporting him under his arms, keeping him from inhaling water. The merman with the round face swam up to him and examined him closely, his fingers running through his chin-length hair.

“He’s right, you’re very pretty.” Again, Jeonghan ducked his head, not used to such praise. He mumbled a thank you, and the merman blew bubbles up into his nose.

“Stop teasing him,” the boy called out, and Jeonghan looked up at him to see his arms crossed. “And bring him back to land, he might catch a cold.”

The mermen obeyed, helping him onto the rocks before floating onto their backs and waving their goodbyes. As they disappeared beneath the surface, the boy landed.

“You must be freezing,” he muttered, reaching out to lift and drop Jeonghan’s soaked nightshirt. “I’ve told them not to do that, but merfolk are notoriously mischievous.”

The twilight was turning to complete night, and though it had been pleasantly warm when they arrived there was a chill to the air now. Jeonghan tried to fight the shivers that went through his body, but the boy caught them anyway. His lips stuck out in, concern written across his face.

“Come on, I need to warm you up.”

They wound their way back to the tree house, where the boy stopped to grab a few things, and then they continued on back to the beach. The boy had grabbed him a thick blanket, which Jeonghan had tugged around his shoulders, and he was thankful for it. The boy told him to sit down on the sand, which Jeonghan did, tucking the blanket under his legs as well to block the wind. The boy then set about digging a hole in the sand, stacking small twigs and brush inside it from a small satchel he’d grabbed from his house. He pulled out two small stones and started to strike them against each other, and in fascination Jeonghan watched as they sparked and ignited the twigs. It wasn’t long before the boy had a blazing fire going, fueled by driftwood that the beach was littered with. Jeonghan inched forward, opening his blanket to let it dry his still damp clothes. The boy smiled at him across the flames, setting the stones back in his satchel and sitting back to enjoy the fire as well.

After a measure of silence the boy suddenly sprung to his feet and started to rummage in his things, and he let out a triumphant shout when he pulled out something wrapped in large leaves.

“I was hoping I hadn’t forgotten these!” He came over to where Jeonghan was sitting and sat down cross-legged, opening the leaf package in his lap. Inside was a great assortment of fruits and berries, all large and delicious-looking. The boy offered him some and Jeonghan pulled out a bright red strawberry, which made the boy’s smile widen.

“Those are my favourite,” he said, grabbing another from the mix. He popped it into his mouth and chewed happily, his round cheeks filling out more. Jeonghan bit away half of the berry and found that it was one of the sweetest he’d ever tasted, and his eyes widened happily. They ate everything the boy had brought, talking in between mouthfuls until the fire turned into embers. When the boy noticed he stared up at the sky, and then looked back down at Jeonghan, his smile a little sad.

“I think you have to go now,” he said. Jeonghan’s clothes were dry, though he hadn’t even noticed until then. He stood up, reaching out to pick up the blanket, but the boy stopped him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it when I come back.” Jeonghan straightened up again, and this time he was prepared when the cloud of fairy dust was blown into his face.

When they flew back Jeonghan could see the dawn bleeding into the sky, and with a sudden thought he looked back to see the waves turning pink and sparkling with the rising sun. The boy tugged harder at his hand, and they dipped in and out of the clouds as they soared back to Jeonghan’s bedroom. The boy let him in through the window first, and as soon as Jeonghan landed he felt his entire body ache with exhaustion. He nearly stumbled, catching himself in the boy’s outstretched arms. He laughed and steadied him for the second time in their journey, fixing a stray lock of hair that had fallen into Jeonghan’s eyes.

“By the way,” the boy whispered, leaning in with wide eyes. His smile was as wild as his hair, which was a mess from their flight back. “My name is Soonyoung.”

And then he was gone.

That had been years ago, and now he felt certain it would be impossible for one person to dream something so realistic and as consistently as this. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he’d pinched himself to check if he could feel it, and every time he winced in pain. When Soonyoung caught him doing it he would laugh and ask him what foolish thing he was up to now. He would never tell him he was seeing if he was able to break the fantasy before him.

Every time his feet touched upon the sand of the land Soonyoung belonged to he felt like he was about to wake up. It was nothing like any beaches he’d seen at home, nothing even close. It was too perfect, too fantastic, the white sands and sparkling water exactly like a picture from a storybook.

He’d learned the names of all of Soonyoung’s friends on his second visit: Minghao, his fairy, who had quite a mischievous streak but loved Soonyoung dearly and came to trust Jeonghan quickly; Seungkwan, Seokmin and Jihoon, the merfolk, who would sometimes greet him at the beach when they knew Soonyoung had left to collect him; Joshua, a cervitaur that lived close to Soonyoung’s tree house that could often be heard playing a lyre from deep within the forest. He’d also grown to know the land by heart as well, though the fear of getting lost was never one that crossed his mind. It was as familiar as his hometown now, and if asked he could probably draw a map of it faithfully.

As time had passed he’d let his hair grow from chin length to just past his shoulders, something he was reproached for back home, but here he was never criticized for it- in fact it only allowed Soonyoung’s flower weaving to extend from crowns to braiding it directly into his hair. Most of the time he kept it tied back to prevent it from getting caught up in branches, as he’d found it would when they went out exploring. When it did get tangled up into an unbearable mess, Joshua would brush it out at length, taking care not to tug with his hand-carved wooden comb.

It was in his company that he learned his love of singing. He would teach him songs that birds had sung for hundreds of years, high and sweet, and how to let the wind carry it far through the air. He could listen to Joshua play his lyre for hours, his long thin legs tucked beneath him and face peacefully unaware to the world around him. It was as though he was casting a spell. Often times Soonyoung would join them, having heard Joshua’s music through the woods and settling on his stomach beside Jeonghan to let himself be entranced as well.

And on nights when the rain fell delicately outside, Soonyoung would bring him to his hammock and ask him to sing the songs he’d learned. Sometimes he would try to sing along, most of the time he just watched, but every time he would tell Jeonghan how beautiful his voice was.

Joshua taught him how to run too. They could practically fly through the trees now, gnarled roots the furthest thing from their mind as the wind whipped past their fearless smiles. He had never managed to beat the cervitaur, but he never stopped trying to outrun him even though he outnumbered him in legs by two.

“Maybe next time.” Was the phrase Joshua would tell him after every race. Jeonghan took it as a challenge.

The merfolk taught him many things as well.

He dragged his fingers through the water of the grotto, his cheek pressed to the smooth stone as he watched the merfolk chase Minghao, who was darting across the surface and soaring higher when they got too close. Jeonghan laughed brightly when he threw a great handful of dust into Seokmin’s face, which made him sputter and let go of the fairy’s tiny leg. Jihoon stopped his chase and shot towards him, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Jeonghan’s wrist.

“Come in, we want to play,” he said, his voice distorted below the waves. 

Jeonghan looked up at the sky and hummed, removing his nightshirt before sliding into the water. He could see Jihoon smiling, letting go of Jeonghan to swim back to the others, turning back to watch Jeonghan follow. He’d gotten to be a much better swimmer since his first visit, and he had the merfolk to thank for that. In fact he had a few things to thank them for, including his newfound confidence. Even in his own world he had been told that his demeanor had improved considerably, his chin raised higher and back straighter. He knew it had to be partly because of the merfolk, with their endless compliments and encouragement.

“You might just be strong enough to be one of us,” Seungkwan said as he reached them, stopping to wade in place. He no longer ducked his head when they praised him.

“Maybe I’ll grow a tail too,” he said with a grin. Seokmin threw his head back and laughed loudly, brushing Jeonghan’s leg with his fin.

“I’m sure you could even make a carp’s tail look beautiful.”

There was a cough from the shore and they all turned their heads to see Soonyoung watching them, a twinkle in his eye.

“His tail would be more beautiful than the three of yours combined,” he proclaimed, placing his hands on his hips. There were cries from the merfolk, though Jeonghan sensed no real outrage behind them. They approached Soonyoung and splashed him, making him laugh and raise his arms to protect himself from the water. 

Jeonghan swam over and joined them, shouting things along the lines of how Soonyoung wasn’t wrong, which made the merfolk turn on him.

After their battle waged for a while, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked to see Soonyoung crouched by the edge staring at him.

“I was hoping to spend some time with you before you had to return tonight,” he told him. Jeonghan looked up at the sky with a start and realized the moon was rising. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed at the grotto. Though the merfolk whined to see him getting out of the water, they waved with happy goodbyes.

Their walk back towards Soonyoung’s house was quiet, though rather than Soonyoung forging ahead as he normally did, he trailed beside Jeonghan. Once they hit the woods he reached out to take Jeonghan’s hand, entwining their fingers. It wasn’t an uncommon gesture, but tonight it felt different.

Soonyoung.

His whole life had changed because of him. From that one fateful night where he’d been invited into a world beyond his imagining to that very moment with the air heavy from the coming night and their hands swinging between them, everything was different. He had friends, and not only friends, a family. It was something he had never thought he would be able to feel, not until Soonyoung had come flying in through his window. He didn’t know if Soonyoung even knew the gravity of what he’d done for Jeonghan when he asked to be his friend, though somewhere deep within him he wondered if the reason Soonyoung had asked in the first place was because he knew it was all Jeonghan had ever wanted.

They reached the field of flowers and Soonyoung sat him down, a fairly common ritual now, though instead of going to collect flowers he sat down immediately. Jeonghan realized there was a pile that had been pre-picked right there beside them, and without a word Soonyoung got to work. Tonight he did a braid, bringing all of Jeonghan’s hair to one side so he could work while facing him. Through Joshua’s teachings he had learned to name the flowers he found in Soonyoung’s garden, and he could recognize the tea roses and poppies, as well as the zinnias and forget-me-nots. Soonyoung carefully placed each blossom, his tongue caught between his teeth.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but stare. In a field bursting with colours he was focused on Soonyoung. He didn’t know when it had happened, or even how long ago it had started, but he knew he loved Soonyoung. Not in the way he loved his other friends, not even in the way he read in stories. There was no way to compare his feelings. He watched Soonyoung’s eyelashes flutter as he wove Jeonghan’s hair, watched his mouth move as he mumbled things too quiet for Jeonghan to hear, his fingers as they moved to pluck another flower from the ground. There was no way to put into words how his heart felt when Soonyoung finally lifted his eyes from his work to look into Jeonghan’s own, his lips curving up into a smile. Somewhere in their stumbling path through a magical land he’d fallen too deeply to climb back out, though he didn’t care to try.

“Let’s go inside,” Soonyoung said, his voice finally breaking the silence they’d held since the grotto. “I have something to show you.”

He pulled Jeonghan up and they linked hands once more, entering the tree with quiet steps. There was something about tonight that seemed to call for it, like they could shatter the sky with a single noise. Soonyoung brought him up the stairs into his hammock, and they sat across from each other, a parallel to how they had just been outside. Jeonghan could see Minghao sleeping in his own bed, tucked away in his tiny carved out nook. His wings fluttered in his sleep, and it made Jeonghan smile.

“This is for you,” Soonyoung said, lifting up a small wrapped package from the hammock and pulling Jeonghan’s attention back to him. He extended his palms to Soonyoung and he placed it in them, cupping Jeonghan’s hands around it before pushing it towards him. Jeonghan looked at him curiously and Soonyoung motioned for him to open it, a grin splitting his face.

He unwrapped it delicately, tugging the roughly hewn ties undone and peeling away the leaves. Inside was a small jar, much like all the ones surrounding them, and inside that was a brightly glowing star. It was flickering with pinks and blues, and he could see that it was stronger than the others. He looked back at Soonyoung and moved to speak, but Soonyoung cut him off.

“Maybe you don’t remember this one, but it should hold special meaning.” And just like that it clicked. The first star they had captured together. It had been a few months before Soonyoung offered to show him how it was done, and it was the only time they had taken half the night before even arriving at the beach. Soonyoung brought him in until the water was up to their chests, and then he told Jeonghan to watch.

He wasn’t sure he would have been able to do much else but watch after what happened next. Soonyoung closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he finally opened them all that Jeonghan could see from them was light. He dipped his hands below the surface, and long thin tendrils of the same light that shone within his eyes started to wind down his arms up to his hands.

It diffused into the water, spreading far beyond his hands into the water beneath, making each star twinkle as it touched them. They began to dance, bouncing around as if the water was disturbed even though it was as still as glass. After a few moments a few stars started to drift from their place in the sky and float towards them. They didn’t get any bigger as they approached, staying as small as fireflies.

“Put your hands in too,” Soonyoung instructed. Jeonghan sunk his fingers beneath the water and lit up when the stars started to swim around them, bobbing about like curious fish.

“Choose one.” Soonyoung stepped closer, reaching out to hold Jeonghan’s wrist. The light from his hands ran over Jeonghan’s skin, infusing them with the same glow. He stared at his hands in awe, before looking back at the stars. A single one stood out, that glowed brighter and practically pushed into Jeonghan’s palm. He cupped his hand and it sank into it, flickering brightly. 

“Come here,” Soonyoung whispered to it, curling his fingers towards himself.

It floated closer, until Soonyoung could place his palm beneath it, then eased it into a jar he pulled from his belt. He handed it over to Jeonghan with the cork, giving him an encouraging smile, and Jeonghan sealed it inside. And with that, the star was caught, preserved forever. The light inside Soonyoung faded, and the strings that bound them together dissipated into the night.

“We did it,” Soonyoung whispered.

“We did,” Jeonghan whispered back.

Soonyoung had brought him out to fish for stars plenty more times after that, usually saving it until just before Jeonghan had to return, though to Jeonghan it never lost its magic. Tonight Soonyoung was gifting him their first, and it told him something that he wasn’t quite sure of. 

“I love it!” He smiled at Soonyoung and wrapped his arms around him and it made his chest feel tight. He couldn’t understand why tonight felt so different, when it seemed like any other.

“Are we going to collect any tonight?” he asked as he pulled away, but Soonyoung shook his head.

“Not tonight,” he said, running his hand down the length of the braid he’d so carefully made. “We don’t have time.”

They spent the rest of the night in Soonyoung’s home, talking in the hammock, and Soonyoung smile never left his face. When it was finally time to leave they flew back hand in hand, even though by then Jeonghan knew the route by heart. There was just something inside him that told him not to let go, and he listened without question. He kept his eyes on Soonyoung, on his hair whipping in the wind like flames dancing over wood, on the glimmer that ran off of him in a trail.

When they arrived in Jeonghan’s bedroom Soonyoung stayed longer than usual, sitting himself on the edge of his bed. He seemed distant, focused on something beyond the room, until he closed his eyes with a long exhale.

“Jeonghan?” He turned his head to stare at the boy beside him, his expression the most serious he had ever worn. It scared Jeonghan, more than anything.

“If you ever look to the sky and see a star disappear, that’s me. Look for me there,” Soonyoung whispered, tears filling his eyes. Jeonghan could see a thousand stars reflecting in them, and he lifted his hand to wipe them away. He couldn’t say anything, not when his voice was stuck in his throat, fighting back against his desperate desire to say anything to Soonyoung.

“Don’t forget about me. Don’t forget about that place, please.”

Jeonghan realized then what Soonyoung was telling him. That tonight was the last time he would see that place, and he felt his heart shatter. He would never see Soonyoung again, he would never go back. His grip on Soonyoung’s hand tightened, holding him there, unwilling to let go.

“You can’t—“ he cried, tears flowing down his cheeks. “Please don’t say that.”

Soonyoung brought their hands to his heart, pressing Jeonghan’s palm flat against it. He couldn’t speak, his tears flowing freely, illuminated by the moonlight.

“I promise,” Jeonghan whispered desperately. “I could never forget you.”

It made Soonyoung smile, so fierce and brilliant, just like everything about him. Jeonghan wished he could capture it, like the star that sat on his bedside table. Soonyoung’s fingers slipped from Jeonghan’s as he approached the window, and Jeonghan watched helplessly as he waved goodbye. He finally managed to move as Soonyoung jumped out, running to see him fly off, his hands gripping then windowsill.

“I love you, Soonyoung!” he cried, his face lifted to the stars, the glimmering dot growing smaller until it disappeared into the sky. Whether Soonyoung had heard him or not, he would never know.

And before long everything faded. The forest, Soonyoung, the mermaids, Joshua and Minghao- they all turned into memories. Then the memories faded into dreams, and the dreams become nothingness. The flashes of orange that used to turn his head became mundane life once more, traffic cones and fruit stalls and strangers just pieces in the backdrop of his life.

Jeonghan forgot to look for the disappearing stars.

It was only years later, when Jeonghan was much older- too old for storybooks and fairytales-, that the magic returned. Class was starting, and the teacher informed them that a new student was joining them that year, a transfer that just arrived in town. Jeonghan thought he recognized him and stared intently at his face as he bowed during his introduction. There was something he couldn’t put his finger on, but he ducked his head as the student walked to his desk, not wanting to appear rude.

“Hello again,” came a voice, a little deeper but all too familiar. Jeonghan looked up to see the student smiling down at him, and the sight felt so much like home that Jeonghan’s heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, do you know one of my students already?” their teacher asked cheerfully, looking between the pair.

“Yes, we met as children,” the boy replied, and Jeonghan’s eyes widened impossibly.

It couldn’t be. But even though he looked so much older and his hair had gone jet black, Jeonghan knew it was. He had a million things to say, all threatening to spill out, but just as he was about to start he was interrupted.

“Perfect, then Jeonghan should have no problem showing you around. Now please be seated, class is starting.”

Soonyoung nodded, sitting down at the empty desk beside Jeonghan. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of him through the whole time, as if his gaze was the only thing keeping him there. It couldn’t have been real, but no matter how many times he blinked Soonyoung never disappeared.

The bell couldn’t have rung any faster, Jeonghan shooting out of his seat to drag Soonyoung outside. He was solid, real— he was there.

“How— Why— You—“

Soonyoung laughed, the bubbly, scintillating laugh Jeonghan had forgotten he’d missed so badly. It hurt to hear it, and his heart ached for all the time they’d never had. His grip on his arms tightened, pulling him into a hug that was nearly suffocating. Soonyoung hugged him back just as hard, his hands burying themselves in his hair. Jeonghan had cut it short a few years ago and he cursed himself for it now.

“I forgot...” he gasped, burying his face into Soonyoung’s shoulder. No doubt students were staring at them, but he couldn’t give a damn if he tried. “I’m so sorry, Soonyoung I forgot everything.”

He was crying, and it made his throat burn, making it impossible to talk. Soonyoung shook his head and stroked his fingers through his hair, humming a song that Jeonghan could vaguely recall.

“It’s okay,” he told him, low and soft. It made Jeonghan cry harder, his hands clutching the back of his shirt. Soonyoung led him away from the hall, out onto the campus under a willow tree. They were alone, away from any prying eyes, and Jeonghan finally managed to stop crying.

“How are you here? Why didn’t you come back? Why now?” he asked, questions spilling out beyond his control. Soonyoung laced their fingers together, smiling through them all.

“I gave up my magic,” he replied, and though Jeonghan covered his mouth Soonyoung just kept smiling. “It was the only way I was allowed to see you again.”

“But why?” Jeonghan asked. He had never understood why he wasn’t allowed to go back, and it had hurt him the most out of anything.

“Once someone reaches a certain age, my magic doesn’t work on them anymore. I couldn’t bring you back, no matter how much I wanted to. And I wanted to so badly.” His voice broke on the last word, and all the time Jeonghan had spent angry that Soonyoung had left him instantly melted away. Soonyoung had never abandoned him— they had been on a clock the whole time.

“It took me a year to realize that I had to see you again,” Soonyoung continued, staring down at their hands. “So I gave up my magic, and let myself age.”

“Why would you do that?”

There was a long, heavy silence between them, where all they could hear was the wind through the leaves above their head.

“I hope you forgive me for this, I’ve only heard this in stories,” Soonyoung said, lifting his head. Jeonghan barely got out a “what?” before Soonyoung’s lips were on his, warm and urgent, pulling the air from Jeonghan’s lungs. He brought Soonyoung closer, gripping his shirt, kissing him back with all the memories of their years together hitting him at full force.

“I love you too,” Soonyoung mumbled, pressing their foreheads together.

And Jeonghan laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside him until he had his head thrown back, his joy insurmountable. Finally, after years unknowing whether his cry had been heard at all, he had an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like to hmu im @s00nhan on twitter!


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